


Kinktober Multifandom 2018

by mandylynn4



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Supernatural, Supernatural RPF, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Biting, Bodyswap, Come Inflation, Come Swallowing, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Edgeplay, F/M, Food Sex, Formalwear, Frottage, Glory Hole, Hair-pulling, Intercrural Sex, Kinktober 2018, Lapdance, Lingerie, M/M, Medical Kink, Mirror Sex, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Prostitution, Rimming, Role Reversal, Scent Kink, Shotgunning, Sounding, Stiles Stilinski Has Scars, Stripping, Threesome - F/M/M, Underage listed because of one scene with pre-birthday non-penetrating sex, Wall Sex, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-08-01 03:42:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16277147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandylynn4/pseuds/mandylynn4
Summary: First attempt at Kinktober.  It's multi-fandom and not all parts will feature all characters/ships tagged.  Each chapter is a separate kink.*Underage listed because of one scene with pre-birthday non-penetrating sexKinks/Ships for each chapter listed below:1)Inflation - Sterek2)Medical Play - Wincest3)Edging - Sterek4)Mirror Sex - Spander5)Shotgunning - Charmie6)Biting - Spander7)Body Swap - Sterek8)Prostitution - Elio/Oliver9)Lingerie - Wincest10)Hair-pulling - Charmie11)Sounding - Spander12)Rimming - Sterek13)Weight Gain - Sterek14)Cunnilingus - Jensen/Danneel15)Intercrural Sex - Sterek (underage)16)Frottage - Charmie17)Orgasm Denial - Spangel18)Role Reversal - Sterek19)Formalwear - Charmie20)Dirty Talk - J221)Food - Elio/Oliver22)Threesome - Wincest/OFC23)Scars - Sterek24)Lapdance - Charmie25)Scent - Sterek26)Smiles - J227)Wall Sex - Sterek28)Stripping - Wincest29)Gloryhole - Spander30)Swallowing - Sterek31)TBD - Surprise pairing/kink - of those previously listed....





	1. AU Sterek; Inflation; Derek Has a Knot

**Author's Note:**

> *I WILL get back to writing the concluding chapters of Whispers soon. My muse took a holiday and only stirred when she saw this smut challenge. 
> 
> These will be short snippets. I apologize for those who want more. Also, unbetaed. Let me know what's not right. ;)

"Oh, fuck," Stiles moans, throat dry and scratchy from overuse.  

Derek's hands are on his hips, slip-sliding through the sweat dripping from his back and sides.  Stiles winces as they rub over tender spots where claws had made hairline scratches along the skin, but his cock doesn't flag at the sensation.  If anything, the reminder of them makes it harder.  He squeezes his eyes shut tightly with the near-painful throb it gives.

Behind him, Derek is huffing and snuffling across the back of his neck - there's a wolf joke in there somewhere - mouth open and teeth grazing lightly every so often.  His body is moving like waves: long, deep rolls of hips against Derek's.  

"I need..."

"What do you need?" Derek whispers roughly into his ear. 

"I need it again.  I need more."

Derek whines, high-pitched and desperate.  His hips jut forward in starts and stutters, but Stiles can tell he's not there yet.  Almost....but not yet.

"I can't....I'm so close...but I need more," he grits out.  He winds their fingers together and rocks backwards with force.  He grins as Derek growls low and deep, knowing the wolf is closer than he is.

He gasps as he feels the base of Derek's cock thickening again, can't remember how many times this has been today.  His body tightens in anticipation, somewhat painfully, and he sucks air in through his clenched teeth at the intrusion.  

Derek's hands slide up his chest and cradle him closer.  He tugs Stiles up so that gravity is assisting in the downward pull onto his knot.  Stiles groans as he sees thin black lines racing up Derek's forearms as he pulls the discomfort away again.  

"Give it to me," Stiles begs, head thrown back onto Derek's shoulder.  "Please, Alpha..."

Derek roars as he releases into Stiles's body, knot inflating fully and cum pumping into the human over and over.  He sucks a hickey into Stiles's neck, fangs and claws just poking out enough to make skin tingle and crawl.  

Stiles keens at the sensation, but he's not sure if he can actually cum again.  His cock is angry red, bobbing in time with Derek's aftershocks.  He wants to cry.  Instead, he takes Derek's hand and slides it down his chest to rest on his belly, bloated and rounded out.  

"Fuck," Derek swears, shivering as his knot throbs inside Stiles.  "Look at you, baby.  All full up."

He presses down slightly, increasing the pressure of the full belly, and Stiles's orgasm shocks him, nearly painful as the thin stream of cum pulses out of him and onto the bed.  He screams, ears popping, as Derek presses harder and cum oozes out around the knot.

"There it is," Derek coos.  His hands stroke lovingly down his sides and his tongue laps delicately behind Stiles's ear.  "You're fucking gorgeous like this."

The bed beneath them is disgusting.  Wet, with sheets half-off on one side.  Stiles shudders at what it must smell like to someone of the werewolf persuasion.  He feels strung out, but warm, and is too tired to resist when Derek strips the bed completely and lays them both onto the bare mattress.  

"We're gonna have to burn this thing," he sighs.  

Derek rumbles into his ear.  "It's not that bad."

"Wait until your knot goes down."

The wolf stills behind him, knot throbbing once again inside of Stiles.  

"Seriously?" Stiles whacks at Derek's hands lightly.  "You're so weird."

"You love me anyway."

Stiles smiles and finally lets his body completely relax.  "I do..."

They'll worry about the mattress later.


	2. Wincest; Medical Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *I kind of really stretched the term "medical play" here. 
> 
> Set early in the series....

Dean's standing over him, bottle of whiskey and a box of matches in his hands. Sam closes his eyes and tries to suppress the shiver that goes down his spine. He turns away from his brother, gripping the back of the chair more firmly.

"Just....just do it," he grits out.

His arm aches. His side burns. His back screams. The scent of blood is in the air, heavy, metallic.

"You sure?" Dean asks. His voice sounds deeper than normal.

"Gotta be done.  Besides, 'tis but a flesh wound."

Dean huffs with laughter. "Monty Python. Classic." He moves forward, setting his wares down on the table beside them. Sam can hear him rummaging through a duffle bag on the floor, winces when a scalpel, needle, and thread join the whiskey and matches.

Sam bites his lip as he takes it all in: the scent of sulfur as the match is struck, the small hiss as the seal on the whiskey bottle is broken, the sensation of warm, calloused hands pushing his shirt up under his armpits.

"This is gonna have to come off, Sammy." Dean sounds like he's swallowed gravel. "I need to be able to see what I'm doing."

Sam's hands shake as he unbuttons his flannel. He slips his arms out of it, hissing lightly as pain shoots up his right side. Dean's hands are soothing as he helps with the t-shirt beneath, finally wielding his buck knife and slicing through the fabric with ease when Sam's wound blurts out more blood.

Dean whistles as Sam's skin is completely revealed. "Flesh wound, huh?" It's tender where he presses, but Sam clamps his lips shut against the sounds he wants to make. "It'll make a good battle scar for later, that's for sure."

Sam's not quite sure where this - whatever this is - started for him. This was normal, mundane, for them to patch each other up after a hunt. Dean's always taken care of him, saw to his wounds and cleaned up his blood. But lately, Sam's been noticing all of the intricate parts of this caretaking....and his body seems to have caught up and taken interest as well.

He breathes slowly through his nose as Dean readies a rag and dabs at the wound with whiskey. His cock thickens in his pants despite the pain.  

"Doin' alright, Sammy?"

Sam shifts on the chair, trying to obscure his pants from view.  "It's fine."

"I'm gonna have to do some digging." Dean sounds apologetic.  "Looks like there could be some glass left in there."  

Sam nods quickly.  "Let's do it."

Dean swivels a nearby gooseneck lamp closer, pressing a warm palm to the base of Sam's neck to encourage him to lean forward on the chair.  He hums and his breath tickles the edges of the painful area.  Sam takes a deep breath, then chokes back a yelp when tweezers begin picking at his insides.

Sam knows it's not the pain.  It's _not_.  In fact, he seems to recall a few times when the feelings had been there while he and Dean filled a basket at a local pharmacy.  It's not exactly just the comfort aspect, either.  Dean taking care of him when he's sick - annual head cold, food poisoning, run-of-the-mill fever - doesn't do _this_ to him.  But he can't put a finger on why Dean handling makeshift medical gear and putting him back together seems to do it for him.  

An especially deep jab with the tweezers brings Sam back to the present and he barely stops the moan coming out of his throat.  Dean looks at him curiously, eyebrow cocked.

"Still with me, Samantha?"

"Yeah...that one hurt."

"Just a few more minutes.  Then I'll stitch you up."

True to his word, Dean starts threading the needle with the efficiency of years of practice soon.  Sam's thighs burn with the effort of sitting still and concealing his half-chub.  He watches his brother's face - intense and focused on the task at hand - and feels butterflies of anticipation for what's to come.  He sighs when Dean's hands return to his body to start the work.

"You're awfully quiet, Sammy," he says after the stitches are in and pulled tight.  "You okay?"

Sam nods, licking his lips.  "Endorphins are kicking in."

Dean's hands still at their work and he leans forward, breath hot on Sam's ear.  "Feeling good then, huh?"  He runs a light finger down the nearly closed gash.  It feels like a caress...

Sam gasps.  Dean chuckles.  

"Think I haven't noticed your little problem?"

"I don't..."  Sam tries to shift away, knees trying valiantly to knock together around the chair back.  His face is hot.

Dean's hand slithers downward, resting just at Sam's hipbone.  "It's alright.  I can take care of that for you, too."

"Dean..."

The wandering hand goes further down, squeezing and rubbing until Sam's unable to deny that he's turned on.  He rocks up into the warmth.  

"I've got you, baby boy," Dean whispers.  "Don't you worry about a thing."


	3. Sterek; Edgeplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after series finale

"I can't believe we're doing this," Derek says in a low voice.  He casts a look over one shoulder, even though Stiles knows the werewolf is alone in the rebuilt Hale house.  

Stiles rolls his eyes.  "Why not?"

"You're sure your roommate isn't coming home?"

"Nope." Stiles's lips pop loudly around the 'p' at the end of his word.  "Went home for the weekend.  I've got the apartment to myself." He stretches back in his bed, laptop dangerously wiggling on his lap.  "Are you sure you're all alone in that big house?"

Derek's eyebrows furrow.  "You know it's just me-"

Stiles laughs.  "Yeah, I know."  He smirks as he takes in Derek's bare torso through the webcam.  "This is kind of hilarious, though.  I mean, who'd have thought, even a year ago that we'd be sitting here waiting to have cybersex a couple thousand miles away from each other..."

Derek's ears turn red on the tips and Stiles tries not to coo at the adorableness.  "I'm not sure-"

Stiles peels his own t-shirt off his body and rakes a hand down his chest.  He moans prettily as he reaches the trail of hair that Derek can no doubt see.  "Really? I'm sure....."

Derek's cut-off groan has Stiles's cock perking up in his sweatpants.  "It's just-"

"Derek," Stiles says, looking straight into the camera, "it's not like we haven't done this before. Well, not  _this_ persay, but you know, sex. This is just...a fun game."

"A game."  Derek's voice is flat.

"I'm going to show you the best game I know.  You're going to love it."  He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.  "It's how I got so good with my stamina clear back in high school, despite my virginity status."  He flicks one of his nipples just a little too hard and lets loose a high squeak of pleasure.  Derek  watches the movement with interest before his hand disappears below the screen.  "Dude, not fair.  I can't see anything."

There's a rattling sound and Derek's shoving the rolling chair back from his desk, hand shoved down his pants and moving rapidly.  Stiles clicks his tongue at the sight.

"You're not playing the game right," he teases.  "Do what I do and nothing else."

Derek frowns.  "Like Simon Says?"

"Stiles says take off your pants," Stiles chuckles.  When the werewolf doesn't do it, he tsks again.  "Here....watch and learn." He shimmies out of his own sweats, delighting in the shivery breath he can hear Derek take as he comes back into frame.  He places the laptop on the nearby TV tray, angling the camera just so.  He squeezes the head of his cock and groans as a pearly drop of precum gathers at the head.  "Your turn," he sighs.

Derek scrambles to comply.  His cock is already flushed and damp at the tip, head peeking out from the foreskin in a way that makes Stiles's mouth water.  "When do you come home again?"

"Two weeks," Stiles pants.  He works his hand down to the base of his shaft and squeezes gently.  "Follow my lead.  If you get close, let me know.  I'll tell you what to do.  And if it gets too bad, a good hard jerk to your balls will do the trick."  Stiles tilts his head to show he means business.  "I mean it.  No coming until I tell you."

Derek grumps.  "This doesn't sound like much fun at all."

~*~

It's been an hour.  Stiles can see the sheen of sweat on Derek's brow, his chest, the insides of his thighs.  His whole body is trembling and his lips are moving rapidly as he recites his calming mantra to keep from coming.  His ears are more pointed than usual, teeth a little longer.  Stiles winces as he notices the elongated curve of each fingernail that cradles furred balls.  

"You're doing so good, baby, " he praises.  "Almost there.  You're almost there."

"I can't-," Derek whines.  His legs twitch with an aborted hip thrust.  The desk chair rolls a couple of inches backwards with the force.  "Please..."

Stiles starts moving his own hands again, one along the length of his cock and the other creeping down into his crease.  "Not just yet.  Just think of how good it'll feel when you finally get there."

Derek's eyes flash red as he watches Stiles's fingers play along his hole.  "I'm not kidding, Stiles.  I can't hold on much longer.  It hurts...."  His hands, however, mimic Stiles's and his head gets tossed back on the chair.  

Stiles mewls as one finger sinks inside and he wishes Derek could do the same.  "Next time-"

"Next time?" Derek cries.

"Next time, you need to be in a bed.  I wanna see you fuck yourself."

Derek howls and he grips the base of his cock with a firm grasp.  A string of clear precum slides down the length.  Stiles's mouth waters.

"You ready?"  At Derek's nod, he starts stripping his own cock with fervor, his other hand pumping a finger in and out of his hole.  "Come for me, Derek," he gasps.  His hips grind in time with his hands.  He can hear Derek's grunts and growls, but his eyes won't stay open.  It's been one of the best sessions yet and Stiles finally gives into the orgasm that's been tingling at the base of his spine for an hour.  He can't even make sound as he unloads on his chest and belly.

He hears Derek, though.  Derek's animalistic roar nearly blows the laptop's speakers.  Stiles forces one of his eyelids open to watch and isn't disappointed when Derek's back arches almost unnaturally on the chair.  He goes beta shift as he comes, cock bursting with cum that lands on the chair, his shoulders, and even on the nearby wall.  A scarlet rash makes its way down his body - a true show of how turned on Derek is - Stiles has seen it many times in the year they've been together, but this time is different.  This time, Stiles can't chase it with his tongue.

He whimpers at the thought.  

"Two weeks," Derek sighs, finally coming down from his high.  He looks dazed, unfocused.

"Two weeks." Stiles takes a deep breath and wipes his sticky hand on the bedspread.  "Think you can wait to jerk off until I get there?  I need to see that in person."

Derek's eyes flash red.  "When you get here, I'm not going for stamina.  I'm going to wreck you."

Stiles shivers.  "Already done..."


End file.
